Horizons
by Miss Ruby Tuesday
Summary: Set in an semiAU, after the third movie. A lovely look at the love triangle between Will, Jack, and Elizabeth, as well as the darker side of Will's personality. Sparrabeth, ultimately. Rated M for swearing, some sexual content, and violence.
1. Chapter 1

She was not home. She never was anymore. Will wasn't sure why he bothered stopping by the governor's mansion on his way home. He'd grown tired of the slightly pitying looks the governor gave him when he asked if Elizabeth was in. It was a farce he kept up only in hope that one day, she would be home and their lives would return to normal... to how things were before Jack Sparrow and his infernal ship.

Will wound his way down the path to the bluff where he knew he'd find Elizabeth. She's been there every afternoon since they'd returned from World's End nearly a year earlier. He spotted her near the edge, her light dress blowing out behind her. With her eyes fixed on the horizon, she looked almost ghostly. He walked up behind her, making no attempts to hide his presence, but she did not turn. He inhaled her scent, amazed at how unfamiliar it seemed to him. He had always remembered her smelling of lavender soap, rose, and linen, but now he caught whiffs of pepper, coffee, and, most disturbingly, something that smelled like rhum.

"I stopped by your house. Your father said I'd find you here."

"Mm."

"Elizabeth, you must stop coming here every day. I've heard whispers about town that you've gone mad after our ...ordeal... You must understand that I don't care, but I don't want people to say such things about you." He went to brush his hand against her windburned cheek, but she shied away.

"I can't sit in the house all day and make samplers and darn socks like you and everyone else seems to want me too. I can't be at sea; must you insist I no longer see it too? Really, Will, you're getting as bad as James Norrington is."

He sighed. "I only say this out of concern for you. I love you, Elizabeth. We're to be married, I only want you to be happy."

"You only say this out of concern for your shop. You fear that no one will want to have swords made by a hand that holds a crazy woman. Isn't that what everyone is saying, after all?" She turned her face slightly and he could see the hard look she had developed there in the last few months. There was no point in arguing when she got into moods like this. He sighed.

"You only want me to be happy," she continued. "In a way you consider proper. No running about, no watching the sea from the bluffs, _no pirates_." Her eyes returned to the horizon, the look on her face clearly saying that Will didn't understand a thing about what made her happy.

"All right, you win. I'll come here tomorrow rather than stopping by your father's house." The corner of her mouth twitched and twisted into a semblance of a grimace. It was the closest he'd seen to a smile since she'd walked off the gangplank of the Black Pearl. "Now, will you at least allow me the pleasure of walking you home? I'd hate for your father to think that I allowed you to be out alone at night."

She turned with a sigh and stepped towards him. She did not reach for his arm, as she had in the past, but instead chose to brush past him and head down the path. Before following her, Will turned to look out over the bluff. The sun had begun to set, a glowing red orb in the sky. It would be hot tomorrow, he figured. Motion made his eyes drop to the horizon and for a moment, he would have sworn that he saw the ghost of a black ship at the perceivable edge of the world. It was only a moment, though, and when he blinked, whatever he had seen was gone. He had to hurry to catch up to Elizabeth, who was halfway down the path. She never waited for him anymore.

He sat in the drawing room of the governor's mansion, having a glass of brandy as he watched Elizabeth. She had withdrawn into herself again after dinner. Now, she was sitting and sorting through a small box of found objects and things she had collected. Will supposed she had picked them up on the shore as she wandered. She held each object up, as though appraising it, before repacking it in a small wooden chest. She had ignored him since he came into the room, so he set down his snifter and walked over to where she sat. He reached for a small, familiar looking, silver ornament.

"What's this?" She looked up, startled by his voice, and snatched away the object before he could touch it.

"It's nothing," she snapped, slamming the lid of the box shut. "Just a little trinket I found washed up on the beach. Why the interest?"

He stepped back, as though she had slapped him. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks at her harsh words. He had no idea what had happened to her over the past few months, but it was difficult to take. His mind drifted back to after Jack had been lost, after he'd seen her kissing him aboard the ship before his "heroic" choice to stay behind, and his confrontation of her at that voodoo woman's shack... what was her name? Tia Donna? He couldn't remember now. It wasn't important anymore. She had tearfully confessed the kiss and begged him to forgive her, that it meant nothing to her, to Jack, or to anyone and it should mean nothing to Will. He'd believed her then; he couldn't imagine her lying, but her behaviour had been odd since that moment. Finding Jack had briefly alleviated it, but the gloom had returned the moment she left the Pearl.

He was dragged from his thoughts by the featherlight touch of fingers on his hand. Elizabeth was looking at him without the hard look he'd grown so accustomed to. Instead, regret softened her features.

"I'm sorry, Will," she said softly. "I shouldn't've snapped. I've just been somewhere else lately and the only thing that helps is being by the sea."

Will nodded, accepting her apology, but the only thing that stuck with him was how empty and dead her eyes seemed. Perhaps after they were married, they would go someone outside of Port Royal for a few days. The change, he thought, would do her a world of good. Better than sitting around the bluff staring at the sea, that was for sure... He'd speak to Governor Swann tomorrow and see about moving the wedding date closer. The sooner things began moving up, the sooner Elizabeth would be able to move on.

He hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

There had been precious few orders that day, it was hotter than hell, and Master Brown passed out long before they were finished. Will felt that, in light of this, he should be free to leave earlier than he usually was allowed. He'd be able to surprise Elizabeth today; perhaps he'd be able to make her smile. He hurried through town, past her home as he had promised yesterday, and up the path to the bluff. When he reached the top, however, he was dismayed that she wasn't where he expected. He began to chastise himself for not stopping by her home on his way until he remembered what she had mentioned in days past: she wandered the beach. With renewed enthusiasm, he started back down the path to the little cove he remembered she had always favoured.

It took longer than he expected to reach the sand. The trail was steep and covered with loose rocks and sand. His boots had slipped more than once coming down the path; he couldn't imagine how Elizabeth did this every day. As he edged down the last few meters, he thought back to how excited she had been, as a teenager, to have found such a secluded beach. She had dragged him there, one night after Master Brown had fallen asleep, to see it. The path had been hidden by overgrowth, just like it was now, and was virtually invisible from any vantage point. She had called it their secret spot and he smiled at the memories of the nights they had lain on the sand, watching the stars in the sky.

"_Hurry, Will!" Elizabeth's insistent voice called from behind the brush. "I have the most wonderful place to show you!"_

_Will hurried behind her, his gangly limbs catching on the local flora. He knew she'd wait for him, but not for long. She's already the better part of an hour for him to finish. She had admonished him for taking so long, insisting that Master Brown would never notice a bit of dirt here or there. She was right, but Will had too much pride in "his" shop to leave it a mess._

_He caught up to her, finally, and she snatched his hand, pulling him forward. _

"_Hurry now! If we don't, we'll miss the sunset and that's the best part!" He barely heard her, though. All he could concentrate on was the feeling of her soft hand in his. It was at that moment that Will decided he would someday wed Elizabeth Swann._

He smiled with the memory as he reached the last few scrubby bushes before the beach when he caught scent of her spicy sweet perfume. The sweetness was fainter than the day before, when he had stood with her on the bluff, and the burnt sugar smell of rhum seemed to overpower the other, lighter notes.

Will peered through the bush, trying to see where Elizabeth was. He could see a person standing in the distance, but the figure, while familiar, didn't bear her shape. He crouched down and squinted, trying to find out who else knew about the secret cove when, suddenly, the shape took several steps back. It was enough for Will to focus.

Indeed, the shape should have been familiar. The tricorne hat was placed jauntily over long black hair and a sash at his waist fluttered in the sea breeze. It was none other than Jack Sparrow himself. Will chuckled ironically to himself; if anyone knew about hidden coves, it should be a pirate. He was almost ready to step onto the beach and greet Jack when he saw something that froze him in his place.

Elizabeth.

She rounded the corner barefoot, soaking wet, stripped down to her shift, and positively beaming. Will hadn't seen her this happy since setting foot on dry land. It stung more than a little that he had not been able to make her smile like that. She advanced fast towards Jack, who took several more steps back. It was then Will noticed he had something-- a necklace-- clutched in one of his hands.

"What's a matter, luv? Don't want your prize enough to work for it?" he said as he raised the arm in question out of her reach. "Really, Lizabeth, did you expect me to come and just drop it in your pretty little hands?"

She laughed joyfully. "I did, Jack. I expected you to be a bit more of a gentleman than this."

He flashed her smile full of gold teeth. "Pirate." His fingers, however, loosened their grasp on the necklace just enough for it to swing almost within her reach.

"Give it here!" She was upon him in a flash, an arm on his shoulder, as though she meant to use it to climb to her prize. Will watched the scene unfold from the bushes, awestruck, and unable to tear his eyes away. Jack's arm slunk around her waist, pulling her to him even as he leaned back to keep the necklace from her grasp. Her fingers brushed the very edge of the chain.

"Please, Jack..." Her voice had dropped an octave and taken on a tone that Will had never heart from her before. It rang in his ears like the calls of the women he had met in the Faythful Bryde while looking for Jack the second time in Tortuga. It was the voice of desire.

In a moment, the necklace was forgotten and Jack dropped his head to claim her mouth. She surged against him and Will was distantly reminded of a wave crashing up the shore. The force of her kiss pushed him back, knocking off his hat, and causing him to stumble and pull her more tightly to him. Will no longer heard the words spoken between them, only the rumble of Jack's voice against her lips and her lilting laugh in return. Will's spell was broken as the pair sank into the sand. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes as he stumbled back up the bath. A cruel wind followed him as he fled, bringing snippets of phrases to him that he could not escape.

"...my Lizzie..."

"...love you, Jack... all my heart..."

"...marriage, luv..."

Tears finally blinded Will as he reached the path back to town.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth laughed at Jack's repeated line of marriage.

"It didn't work last time, on the Pearl, Jack."

"Aye, but you can't blame me for trying. I am, after all, quite a catch and it would be wise to take what you can..."

"...And give nothing back!" She laughed, snatching his hat from the ground and placing it on her head as she settled close to him again, dropping her mouth to his neck. Jack groaned as she nipped him. He had come for another reason, though, aside from bringing her prizes from the South Seas. He had been mulling over things to say to her for the majority of the voyage back.

"Ahh, I think, luv, we need to have a bit of a chat," Elizabeth ignored him, moving her mouth from his neck to his ear.

"Lizzie... sweetheart... please..." Still, no response that she had heard him.

"Parley!" That stopped her.

"What..? Jack, did you just demand parley?" Her mouth hung open in amused shock. "Whatever for?"

"Well," he paused, brushing an errant strand of hair from her face. "I was talking and you weren't listening."

She laughed again. "You're always talking." She noticed, however, that his face had gone serious, something decidedly unusual. She sighed. "What's weighing on your mind?"

"I... well... I've been having a bit of a think about me and you and..." he paused. This was coming harder than expected. Jack always felt he had the gift of the gab; why did it have to fail him now? "I won't keep cuckolding Bootstrap's boy like this, Elizabeth. It's not games we're playing no more with your heart and his; it's mine as well and I've a mind not to have it broken, even by the likes of you." There. Said. More, in fact, than he originally meant to.

"Oh," she blinked rapidly several times and he could feel the tenseness ebb into her body. "I see. You'd..." her voice cracked, full of tears and his heart twisted with the thought of having hurt her. "You'd rather not see me again?"

"It's not that, darlin," he said softly. "I just won't be party to this no more, savvy? It pains me to say it, because it could mean the end to us, but it's him or me. There's no loyalty to him on my part, but his pap was a good man who stood up for me to his own end and I'd like to think I did the same for his issue, even if it's to my own end." He looked away, to the horizon. This was where she broke his heart, told him that she understood, but she'd made a promise to Will to marry him, he knew it. At least he'd still have the Pearl.

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. She had suspected this was coming. Nothing came without a price. She and Jack had been rendezvousing since their return. It had been exciting, at first, which had gradually given way to a comfortable camaraderie, and finally had softened into something akin to love. Jack brought out her adventurous side and, in turn, she brought out the good in him. They fit like two halves of a clam shell, or peas in a pod, as Jack was fond of saying. She had been able to have her cake and eat it too, which had suited her fine at first. Lately, though, she had begun to find being around Will stifling and frustrating rather than a welcome calm after the excitement she'd had with Jack.

"Would you give me the night to think on it?" Her voice sounded inexplicably tiny in her ears. "This isn't a decision that I want to make lightly."

"Of course, luv. Have a fortnight if that will rest your mind." Jack tightened his arm around her waist. "I don't imagine you'd mind if I showed you a few of the perks of choosing me, though." Glib Jack resurfaced and the tension broke like a fever. Before he had a chance to utter another word, she'd pounced on him. In the back of his mind, he prayed to God, Aphrodite, Neptune, and a few other miscellaneous heathen gods he picked up on in his travels that she'd chose him and not Bootstrap's boy.

----

Author's Note: Libby24 and Victoria Faust, thank you so much for your reviews. I'm uploaded a new chapter (soon as I fix my wee errors) and I hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

Will sat, staring blankly, in one of Port Royal's pubs. When he arrived, sober, he had tried to imagine every possible way that he could have misinterpreted Elizabeth's earlier actions on the beach. As he'd had progressively more to drink, however, the only thing that stuck out in his mind was that this was the second time he'd seen the woman who would be his wife kissing another man, a pirate no less, and the man responsible for, at least in part, the demise of his father. It would hurt less if he had found her with Norrington. At least _he_ had some rank and worth. One good thing, the pain was relegated to a dull sting with the alcohol.

How would he ever confront her about this? He couldn't very well go up to her and say _Hello Elizabeth. Lovely day, isn't it? Say, I was spying on you in what I thought was our little cove, bussing the man who's responsible for my father's death and, conveniently, you swore you had no feelings for. How's that?_

He didn't want to lose her. That was he feared most. He'd never imagined his life without her. She'd been his one constant since the moment he'd been pulled from the sea and woke at her feet. Jack hadn't even known her that long! It wasn't fair that she should melt under his touch and turn to ice at Will's.

Will suddenly felt quite a few pairs of eyes on him. Looking down, he realized he'd slammed his fist against the bar in his frustration. He sighed. Now he was turning into Master Brown. Perhaps, he'd also loved and lost.

Lost.

Will straightened up. He hadn't lost yet. If Jack was going to play hard and loose with the rules, then so would he. After all, wasn't all fair in love and war?

----

Author's Note: I am so incredibly happy with the response this story is getting! Fists, Libby24, Victoria Faust, lauren baker, and CSI Go, your words have been wonderful. I'd been hestitant to publish this, but I'm really encouraged. I'm hoping to get one more chapter out later, since this is a bit of a short, teaser chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack lay awake in the captain's quarters. He was second-guessing his momentary sway to the side of honourable. The bedding still smelled slightly of her and he wondered if that was all he'd be allowed to keep, when this whole mess was over and done with. This has started out innocuously enough. She had been just another bonny lass, with the added bonus of not one but two uptight paramours to offend as he charmed his way into her arms. She was practically a shrinking violet when he first met her, by comparison. It had changed the night they had been marooned. It was a nasty trick, what she'd done to the rhum, but even he had to admit it was clever. From there, a grudging admiration had sprouted.

He had never expected to find her on the docks of Tortuga, let alone hear her regale him with tales of the barfight Norrington started and she inadvertently ended. She'd played the part of the priss well enough during the days, though Norrington seemed to have her number, but at night, she'd snuck into his cabin. It sounded sordid, even in his mind, and he was positive that there'd be the devil to pay if the boy had ever found out. In truth, they'd played cards and dice, sometimes talking, sometimes sitting in silence. She'd told him about her mother, how she'd been taken by a plague in London and her father, half mad with grief, had swept them away to the furthest place he could imagine as soon as he was able. He'd told her about his own ma, how he came upon the Pearl, Will's father, and the mutiny. He'd liked her well enough then to call her a friend.

Of course, she'd done him another nasty turn when she chained him to the Pearl and left him for dead. He knew, in that moment, she'd become an equal. He couldn't quite be mad with her for doing it; he'd have done the same.

Or maybe not.

She's rescued him just the same. No one before her would have gone to the literal ends of the earth for him. He'd swept her into his arms first when she'd finally found him, whispering cruel words in her ear even as he'd pulled her close to him. She'd sobbed against him, begged his forgiveness, and he'd given it to her. There'd never been a question of it.

She'd showed him the little cove in Port Royal when he'd brought Will and her home. She'd whispered that she'd meet him on the path to the sea at midnight and had kept her word. They had lain together in the sand when she confessed she was having doubts about her wedding to Will. She couldn't fathom the thought of being caged up again. Tears had welled in her eyes when she told him she was afraid that she'd never see him again. It was then he had struck a bargain with the Devil for a few more stolen moments with this girl... his girl. He'd promised to meet her there every fortnight or so. It was a safe enough location. He could moor the Pearl offshore and row to the cove without ever being seen. She'd positively lit up when he'd said that. It had been that reaction that told him this would be his undoing.

After a few months of their meetings, he'd come to the beach to find her sitting on a trunk. For a brief, thrilling moment, he'd thought she meant to run away with him. She hadn't, but it had been close enough for the time. She'd made up a lie for both Will and her father about visiting a childhood friend in a distant city, told them she was taking a ship, then paid off the captain to verify it. It was a yet another well played trick by her.

"_Aren't you thrilled, Jack?" she'd asked. "I've bought us two weeks."_

_He'd nodded, smiling. "And a bloody good plan, too. I must've rubbed off on ye. Before you know it, the Caribbean will have another lady after the hearts of Mary Read and Anne Bonney." Elizabeth simply smiled at him. Jack cleared his throat. "And how do you wish to spend your lovely fortnight, me darling?"_

"_Would you do anything for me, Captain Sparrow?" she purred. "Anything my heart desired?"_

_Bugger. This was not a good start._

"_Within reason, luv." She nodded, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She was definitely planning something._

"_I want a tattoo, like yours," she said, stroking her fingers over his sparrow, his pirate's brand. "Take me to Tortuga."_

_He started. Her words had a sobering effect on him. The daft girl had no idea what she was asking. Will would most assuredly know that he had had a hand in this if-- **when**-- they married. He would certainly be none to pleased either._

"_Luv, I'll take you to Tortuga, if that's what you wish, but I'll bloody well not have you getting a tattoo anywhere on my watch."_

_Her eyes blazed. "Fine. To Tortuga we go and I'll go alone if you won't accompany me." She stared him down, neither giving._

_He'd caved, of course. He told her that it was her infernal yammering, but it was more the fear that something would happen to her as she tried to find a tattooist. It would be easier on all involved if he just took her some place he knew. He'd decided to take her to Buddy, an ex-sailor himself, who'd done the sparrow on Jack's arm. Elizabeth had positively glowed when he'd mentioned it. Daft, he thought to himself. Daft and up to something._

_He's spent the better part of an hour cajoling Buddy to tattoo "that pretty young society thing". He'd eventually told a wee bit of a fib, assuring Buddy that the lady's husband wouldn't much mind, since indeed he was looking at him and if he'd brought her here, he obviously hadn't minded or else he wouldn't've brought her here, now would he?_

_Buddy, confused, had nodded, but archly questioned Jack about his "marry-age". Jack simply nodded and said they were close enough as to call it that._

_She had chosen to have a sparrow flying over a swan for her piece. The irony was not lost on any present. She lay, half on her side, between Jack's legs, with her hip bared to Buddy's needle. Her eyes were closed and her hand squeezed tightly on his. She never cried out, much to Buddy's surprise, and Jack's pride. When he'd finished, Jack had decided to get the same tattoo on his chest, just over his heart. It had seemed right. Plus, one could never have too many tattoos, now could they?_

Jack turned onto his side, trying to get comfortable. Of course, he remembered that night. His hand drifted to touch the tattoo they shared.

_They had chosen to go back to the Pearl instead of paying the highway robbery that passed as inn fare. The evening had started as usual, playing dice. He'd broken out the rhum, after, and instead of declining it, she'd taken a healthy swig. Her eyes were still glowing with the excitement of the tattoo. As the night wore on, he'd lined her eyes with the same kohl he wore and braided his silver charm into her hair. He'd declared her a right bonny pirate lass in the moment before she leaned in and kissed him. It was both hard and sweet. The adrenaline from the tattoo and the rhum that flowed through her veins drove her forward. It was everything the kiss she'd given him on the deck of the Pearl should have been. His arms were around her in an instant, one hand tangled in her hair and the other holding her tight against him. He backed her toward his berth, moving by instinct alone. He marveled at how perfectly she fit against him, like they had been split in half. Peas in a pod, indeed._

_But she was a forward wench! By the time he'd backed her knees against his berth, she'd made quick work of his shirt and was working on the ties of his breeches. Perhaps, Bootstrap's boy wasn't quite so much of a eunuch as he'd originally thought. Of course, if she'd been engaged to him, he'd have made quick work of her maidenhead a long time past and, if Will was incapable of the action, perhaps he'd make quick work of it tonight any way._

_He divested her of her shirt, admiring her small, pert breasts and moved next to remove her breeches. His breath caught in his mouth has the sight of the hidden tattoo. He pressed her onto her back, growling low in his throat, and bent to touch his mouth to her hip._

_Elizabeth hissed as his mouth touched the tender, abused skin around her tiny, fresh tattoo. The nerves were already on fire from the needle and Jack's mouth alternately soothed and aroused pain there. She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged gently, trying to pull him back to her. It worked and he kissed her hard again. Then, he did something strange. He pulled back._

"_Lizzie... Luv... Are you sure this is what you want? Be sure. A kiss you can take back; this you can't." It gave her pause for a moment. She had expected to be wedded and bedded, not taken by a pirate with kohl smearing her eyes and his charms woven in her hair, like a common strumpet. Then again, she'd never expected to allow a man to tamp ink into her flesh, either._

"_I'm sure," Her voice cracked. She was nervous, but she was sure. "Yes. Yes, I want this."_

_His bravado broke through the moment of doubt. "You won't regret this, luv. Ne'ry a woman's been with Captain Jack Sparrow who's regretted his touch."_

"_Except for the ones who seem to be interested in slapping you," she laughed._

"_Ah, darling, but they're only upset because I haven't been back to brighten their drab bed-lives!"_

_The humour broke her tension. She waited patiently as he retrieved his french letter—for his protection and hers, he said—and poised himself, waiting._

"_I daresay it'll hurt... unless darling Will's beaten me here," he said, a leer in his words. He watched as she bit her lip. Not so pure, are we, Lizzie, he thought. He waited for her to admit to succumbing to Will's fumblings. What she said, though, sapped the fight from him._

"_How badly?"_

"_Come again, luv?"_

"_How badly will it hurt? Worse than the tattoo?"_

_Bugger. He hadn't really expected her to still have maintained her virtue this effectively. Well, she'd said yes and there'd be no more to it. This was not a time for an attack of the high 'n' mighties. This was a time for action and, above all else, Jack prided himself on being a man of action._

"_I daresay it won't hurt more than the tattoo. Ready, luv?"_

"_Could you give me a count and maybe do it fast, then?" she asked._

"_Bloody grand idea, luv. On the count of three. One... Two... Three..." He thrust, meeting and breaking through the resistance he met. He was feeling rather proud of himself until he looked down at her face. It was scrunched up in pain, with tears leaking out from the corner of her eyes._

_Oh... Bugger... Not good. Very not good._

"_Lizzie, Lizzie, don't cry, luv, please don't cry..." The pleasure he'd felt at claiming her maidenhead disappeared. All he was left with was the feeling that he had just lived up to every bad word said about pirates and a few not yet invented._

"_It hurts, Jack," she drew a sharp breathe."Oh god. I didn't expect it would hurt so much."_

_He ran his hand on her cheek, smearing the kohl down her face like war paint. He kissed her forehead, her closed eyes, her cheekbones, and finally her mouth. He could taste the salt of her tears on all of her. He stayed like that a long time, whispering quiet words of comfort, as though she were a wounded animal. After what seemed like an eternity, he noticed she had begun to move her hips against his. He had moved tentatively at first, gradually building momentum. In the end, she had matched him stroke for stroke, pausing only when he thrust his hand between them, allowing her to build as much as he had._

_In the aftermath, he had lain with her, his fingers ghosting over her tattoo, contemplating the enormity of what had transpired. Her fingers, tangled in his hair, felt as though they were wrapped around his heart._

"_I don't know if I'll be able to give you up after this, luv, not now that I know what it tastes like," he sighed, a smile still playing on his lips._

"_I don't suppose it'll matter. You've claimed me as yours. I'll never be anyone else's." She pressed her face against his shoulder and mumbled something before falling asleep. The sea's dreams would be her own that night and they would be dreams of soft breezes and fair weather._

_Jack brushed her hair back, whispering to her sleeping form. _

"_I daresay I'm falling in love with you, Elizabeth. Christ help me."_

_She'd been almost in tears when it had come time to go home. She swore she'd find away to arrange another trip and soon. As they had stood on the beach, tears pouring down her face in the pre-dawn dark, he had kissed her and told her to keep the silver charm from his hair. He had watched her disappear up the path and stood there for a long time after. As he rowed back to his ship, he had the distinct feeling that he had watched his heart walk up the little path to town with her._

Alone in his cabin, tears dripped from Jack's eyes. The memory was vivid, haunting, and above all, painful. He knew he'd get no sleep until her decision was made and he hoped, that if there was Anyone out there that watched out for him, she'd be in his arms within the week. This was why Jack Sparrow never fell in love; it was too bloody painful and complicated.


	6. Chapter 6

Something was grabbing at the back of Will's shirt. He swatted at it. Bloody damn mule who thought she was a damn, bloody goat.

"Go 'way!" he slurred.

"Come on, Will, time to go." That voice was not the voice of the of Master Brown's mule, especially considering that blasted mule never really spoke. Mule of a few words... In fact, it sounded suspiciously like...

"Norrin'ton! Jayz Norrin'ton! How'd you get in my shop?" He went to clap the man on the back, but missed.

James Norrington sighed. How did he continuously get himself into places where he was cleaning up after Will Turner, just like a bloody mother, especially after how he'd stolen Elizabeth away from him? At least now, he could take cold comfort in the fact that, judging from Will's actions, it now seemed as though he would be relegated to the same fate.

"We're not in 'your' shop, Will. You're in a tavern and I am taking you elsewhere before you further embarrass yourself."

"Right then... Embarrass." Will tilted off his stool into Norrington's arms, barely staying upright. "You're a luckee man, James. A luckee, luckee, single man. Women'r naught but trouble. Trouble!" He went to poke Norrington in the chest, but again missed. Damn man wouldn't hold still.

"You have no idea," he replied drolly.

Will felt seasick. He had no idea how this was possibly on land, even land as unsteady as this. All he really was sure of that he was going to very sick, very shortly. Norrington averted his eyes as Will retched into the bushes on the side of the road. Though he had guessed it was Elizabeth that was upsetting, he was curious what exactly she'd done that had sent him out to drink himself into oblivion.

"If you'd do me the favour of ceasing to vomit, I'll put you up in my home for the night."

"I don't want to be a bother..." Will was cut off as he retched again

"It's no bother, young William. And I am truly curious as to what led you to this current state."

"Lead on," Will sighed and wiped half-heartedly at his mouth. Much as he didn't want to talk to a man who had also been engaged to Elizabeth, perhaps Norrington was also the only man who would understand.

The walk to Norrington's home was uncomfortable. Will might have considered bolting if he hadn't still been so woozy from all the drink. He had the distinct feeling of lamb being led to slaughter as he walked up to a tidy, if unassuming, looking house on a bit of a hill.

"This is it?" Will's voice sounded hoarse from vomitting.

"Yes. Do you want to come in or would you rather wallow on the porch alone?" Still reluctant, Will followed his former adversary into his own home. Once inside, Norrington roused a scullery maid and set her about to putting on tea for both of them.

"So tell me, _Will_, how was it I came to find you drinking yourself half blind instead of becoming drunk on the beauty of our dear Elizabeth. Wedding plans gone awry?" Cruel? Yes, but turn about was certainly fair play. Will Turner, after all, had caused him a great deal of heartbreak in the past.

"She's taken up with Jack."

It was the response that Norrington had expected, but it somehow sounded more better in his mind. Coming from Will's lips, it sounded cheap, sad, and pathetic.

"I'll have to say, Will, I'm not shocked by it. You should have seen the look in her eyes when she spoke to him aboard the Pearl... as well as all the nights she spent in his cabin before we found you." _That's it James, twist the knife a little more._

"She... spent nights with him?"

"She did. Near on every night I was on watch, at least. Once most of the crew was sleeping, she'd sneak out and go into his cabin. She never came out again until dawn was breaking."

"How could she?" he slammed his fist onto a table for the second time that night. "Oh Elizabeth... How could she? _I love her_."

"May I remind you, Will, that I do too?"

Realization dawned on him, widening his eyes. "She did the same to you, didn't she? Every word she said to you... a lie... And me, as well."

"And God help us both, we still love her. What fools we mortals be," Norrington stated dryly.

Will took a sip of his tea, only to choke on it.

"Oh, God... _Oh, God_... That's what had changed about her. That's what was different. The smell of rhum! Oh, God, she came to me still smelling of him." Will cracked before Norrington's eyes. What little self control he might have had was gone with that revelation. Norrington might have felt some pity for him if he hadn't remembered her in the same: coming to him smelling first of Will, and then later covered with Sparrow's burnt sugar scent. Norrington placed a hand on his back.

"She was never meant for either of us, Will. Her heart was never for either of us to have, even though she seems to have ripped out and trounced upon both of ours."

"No! You might have given her up without a second thought, but I won't..." his voice dropped to almost a whisper. "She's all I've ever wanted, since I was a boy. If not for Elizabeth, I have nothing. I can't lose her, I won't lose her, especially not to him! I have to see her, to speak to her." Will shoved himself out of the chair before Norrington had a chance to caution him against such a rash idea.

"That's not for you to decide, Will," he muttered at the retreating shape. "It's not your choice any more than it was mine to lose her to you."

----

_Author's Notes: I just wanted to express my gratitude for all the reviews, especially from fists and Libby24. I truly hope this chapter keeps with your glowing reviews. The story is winding down, but I've got a few more ideas mulling about it my head. Thank you again._


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth's eyes were on the sea. The breeze blew in from her balcony and swirled around her ankles. In her heart, she knew her decision was already made. It was just a matter of how to tie up loose ends before she moved on. She'd never be happy here, not after she has tasted freedom. Cynically, she also knew that no one would have have a ruined woman, not even Will, not even for her. Such a deliriously wonderful ruin it was, though. She'd scoffed at the tattoos of half naked women bearing the banner "Man's Ruin" when she'd seen them on Jack's crew. She had told Jack one that she'd have him tattooed on her arm, bearing the banner "Propriety's Ruin". At that thought, a smile broke on her face like the dawn on the seas. She wasn't so much ruined as spoiled.

A pebble being tossed on the balcony broke her concentration. She looked down, expecting Jack, but instead finding Will. To borrow Jack's favourite phrase _oh, bugger_. She was shocked by what she saw. He was disheveled and swaying and very much looked as if he'd been drinking.

"Elizabeth... Miss Swann!" he hissed. "Come down. I have need to speak to you." She'd nodded her affirmation, scurried to quickly change into breeches, and made quick work of climbing down the trellis. It was nothing after the weeks she'd spent in the rigging while crewing the Pearl; at least the trellis was solid.

"Will," she started. "It's been years since you've done this... or called me that. What's--"

"I needed to speak to you," he cut her off. "Can we go some place a little more ...private..? _Our cove_, perhaps?" Stunned by his brusqueness, she simply nodded and followed his lead.

At least he knew her trick for making it down the steep cliffs now: she was barefoot. And dead sober. She glided down the trail at twice his speed, not stumbling, as though her feet knew every inch. He wondered just how often she had been making this trip, alone or not. Tears pricked at his eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time that night; he promised himself he would not cry again, at least not until all was said and done.

For her part, Elizabeth was rehearsing what she planned to say in her head and nothing sounded right. There would be no practised speech of the merits of following one's heart like she had given to James Norrington when she broke their engagement officially, when she had come to him fresh from Master Brown's where she'd pledged her troth to Will. In her mind's eye, she replayed the scene, trying to glean any remaining wisdom from it.

"_James," she'd said, her voice going up an octave with apprehension. "James, are you here?" Her face burned with the shameful notion that she was currently in possession of not one, but two fiancés. Deliciously improper, a little part of her brain cried._

_He stepped out of his office, his face lighting up when he saw her, as though he had received a reprieve from the gallows. For an awful moment, she felt as though she would lose her nerve. He looked so happy to see her and she was going to tear that all down within moments._

"_Could we speak in your office, please? It's of dire importance."_

"_Of course, my dear," he'd offered her his elbow and she'd taken it, hoping that would somehow lessen the sting of what she was about to say._

_He'd taken the return of the ring with dignity. He did not cry, did not yell, did not beg her to reconsider. He'd simply asked if she would be happy, really happy, with William Turner, as he had before, and when she had said she would be, he'd wished her the best and promised to remain her most loyal friend. He'd bowed his head when he'd said it, but it was a dignified finish. She'd kissed his cheek, as she readied to leave._

"_It would never have worked between us, James," she said absently, echoing Sparrow's words to her earlier and for a moment, he thought that he could smell a faint whiff of rhum mixed in with her perfume. He'd escorted her to the door and bowed stiffly to her before bidding her good day. After, when the news spread that Governor Swann's daughter had rejected the Commodore, she'd marveled at how she'd become the hottest bit of gossip for the third time in less than a week._


	8. Chapter 8

They reached the sand after what felt like miles of walking. Neither had spoken a word. Will could not believe that it had been less than a day since he had walked down this same path. The day had seemed so full of promise then.

"So tell me, William Turner, what was so important that you had to drag me out here in the middle of the night?" A faint, subconcious smile played in the shadowed corners of her lips; she was not thinking of Will as her eyes spotted the cove. "You never came to see me earlier." She feigned nonchalance to cover her nervousness. Then she paused, leaning into him a bit. "Have you been drinking? You positively reek of liquor."

"But I did, _Miss Swann_. I came down This. Very. Path," he punctuated each word with an ominous step closer. "You were not alone, so I didn't see fit to interrupt you."

"Oh, _bugger_..." 

"Stop using that language!" Will howled, backing her towards the rock edge. "You're not a pirate, you're not!"

"Will..." Elizabeth started.

"Will nothing! How could you do this to me, Elizabeth? To us! You swore it meant nothing when you kissed him," his voice dropped to a harsh whisper, as he dropped to his knees, sobbing. "You promised me," he muttered against her bare feet.

"And I was wrong. I wanted it to mean nothing. God help me, Will, I do love you--" Elizabeth was cut off as Will stood abruptly and forced his mouth against hers in a hard, desperate kiss, the kiss of a man drowning. There was no love, no tenderness, only the desperation that comes with knowing this might be the last kiss that ever graced his lips. His hand ran up her side and left behind a trail that burned with guilt and shame. He began to slide it under her shirt.

"Is this how he touches you, Elizabeth? Is this what makes you burn for him, but turn to ice when I am gentle with you?" he whispered. She whimpered under the roughness of his hands, tasting his tears on her lips. The spell came to a sudden, crashing halt when he brushed the tiny patch of differently textured skin on her hip. His hands hesitated, retracing the strange new skin. It was not what he had become familiar with.

"What's this?" he yelled. "What the bloody hell is this?" Rage, a rare countenance to Will's personality, boiled over. He grabbed the waist of her breeches and wrenched them away from her side, revealing the tiny tattoo.

"It's a sparrow," he hissed, incredulous. "You've tattooed a goddamn sparrow on yourself. You've marked yourself as his while you still wore my ring and you never saw fit to tell me! You're nothing but a whore... his whore! You even smell of his demon rhum!" He shoved her, hard, and spat on her. "Goddamn you to hell, Elizabeth Swann!" He raised his hand back, blind with rage, ready to strike, when an iron grip closed around his wrist.


	9. Chapter 9

"You'll not be wanting to do that, mate."

"Jack!"

Will whirled around to face him, half aghast at what he had been about to do to Elizabeth, half seething with anger towards the man who'd caused all this trouble.

"You bastard! You stole her from me!"

"Aye, lad, but no more than you stole her from your pal Norrington. The truth of the matter is none of us chose where we'll find love. So in a way," he flashed his cocky, gilded smile as a bluff to Will. "You might say Lady Fate is the only one who's done any stealing from anyone. Savvy?"

"You'll break her heart. You'll leave her as soon as you've bedded her, like all those women you left behind in Tortuga. She'll be ruined and you'll have nothing more than another notch in your bedpost!"

"Ah, but there's where you're wrong, young Turner," And there, again, that grin, ever present even in the most inappropriate of times. "I've bedded the fair Elizabeth months ago, and still I come back with the hope of making her an honest women." His eyes darted to Elizabeth, still on the sand. "If she'll have me."

It was the wrong thing to say before Will, who was already reeling. With an anguished roar, he went to take a swing at Jack, who dodged it effortlessly, before pulling his pistol and cocking it.

"Don't make me do this, William Turner. This is not where your story should end." Will, however, made no effort to stand or even acknowledge the pistol pointed at him. His shoulders slumped as his body was wracked with sobs. He had lost. Cautiously, Jack, not taking his eyes off of Will's defeated form, stepped warily back to where Elizabeth lay crumpled on the sand.

"You all right, Lizabeth, luv? No damage?" She nodded in affirmation, eyes wide with disbelief, as she slipped a shaking arm around his waist.

"I love you, Elizabeth. You're all I'd ever dreamed of," Will's voice was distant, thin, and reedy. "Since the first day you showed me this place... since you pulled me out of the ocean... I'd always dreamt that I'd marry you."

"I do love you, Will," she whispered. "But not in the proper ways for a woman to love her husband. I'm unhappy here," she gestured in a manner eerily similar to Jack's. "I could never be what you dreamt of. It was wrong of me to lead you on, but I had hoped that, with time, I would come to love you in the right manner."

"How can you love him, Elizabeth? He's a pirate. You're nothing alike."

"Neither are we, Will. He's a good man, you've seen it yourself... Like your father."

"There's no chance you'll change your mind, then?"

"No. This is where my heart lies, with Jack."

"Then this is good-bye." He did not meet her eyes. In this one moment, he understood just what he had done to James Norrington. He would owe him an apology and a drink later.

"Aye."

Will refused to look up as the couple slipped past him, nor did he acknowledge the item placed by his side until they had long since left the cove and made their way up the path. Elizabeth had left his ring, crafted by his own hand, in the sand next to him. He picked it up, feeling its weight against his palm. He untied the leather thong around his neck and slid the ring on to it, before retying it. The ring was still warm where it fell against his chest. He wondered absently if this was the last time he would ever feel warmth.

"Good-bye Miss Swann... Elizabeth," he whispered. His only reply was the hiss of the waves on the shore. It was a fitting sound that left him feeling useless and empty.

_Author's Note: This was a hard piece to write. I had a lot that didn't feel as though it flowed. Many, many thanks go to Libby24. This chapter would have been a lot longer coming without her excellent beta skills. As always, reviews make my heart go pitter-pat._


	10. Chapter 10

The small church was located in a forgotten corner of Tortuga; a remnant of its earliest days. The Spanish missionaries rolled in and out with the regularity of the tide, but there was always a man of the cloth there. They had been good to Jack, in days past, allowing him sanctuary when he was injured and giving him counsel when he was lost. This wasn't to say that Jack was a God-fearing, Christian man, but the padres were level headed and as good for advice as the next man.

It was on a warm, sunny morning that this tiny church performed its most import function for him yet. On this day, with only Gibbs and mute old Cotton as witnesses, Jack Sparrow wed Elizabeth Swann. As he repeated the latin incantations that would bind them, he stole a glance at her. She wore the veil of a virgin, blushing just a bit more for it, and a dress liberated from a ship they'd raided on their way. To his eyes, though, there was never a more beautiful sight. Even the Pearl paled in comparison.

The old padre finished his chant and Jack paused, all of his bravado and swaggering gone. In its place was the shy man he'd been in the years before he'd become _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. He hesitated, his eyes resting on her lips.

"AWWWWWKK! Kiss the bride! Kiss the bride!"

"Bloody parrot!" he laughed, as he leaned in, kissing her for the first time as his wife.

* * *

The new Elizabeth Sparrow rested against her husband as he steered the Pearl. The sun set over Tortuga in the background, and on her most unconventional wedding day. Jack hummed a nameless tune, as he tightened his grip.

"So, luv, ready for your wedding night?"

"Didn't we have that months ago?" she asked, laughing.

He feigned hurt. "I could think of a few new tricks to show you. I_ have_ been all over the world."

"Well, let's bring us that horizon!"

"I already have, Elizabeth. My horizon is right here."

Where one sun sets, another will always rise.

_Finis_

* * *

_Author's Notes: There indeed is an epilogue to this, if there's enough interest. Again, thanks to my wonderful beta, Libby24, without whom I'd be insane and this piece would read like hieroglyphs written by an illiterate. Thanks also to everyone who reviewed, including but not limited to Fists, Kathryn Sparrow, captain-sparrows-wench, Cloudburst2000, and CSI-Go for their excellent words and encourage ment._


	11. Epilogue

She was bloody well going to break his hands if she didn't stop squeezing. Sweat poured off her face as she grimaced in terrible pain. They were somewhere off the coast of New Providence, anchored and waiting. Anamaria, picked up on their last landfall, rested her tough hands on Elizabeth's knees.

"C'mon, lady, just a bit more work and it's all over 'til you let him at you again!"

Elizabeth groaned and howled. "He'll bloody well never lay a finger on me again!"

"Aye, that's what they all say," Anamaria smiled. She'd had a tot of her own since Jack had last laid eyes on her. Her son, though barely 3, was the spitting image of his mother and every bit her progeny. It had given him hope for the future when he was still reeling from the news of their child's conception.

His musings were cut short as Elizabeth's iron grip cracked his hands and brought him to his knees. He couldn't fathom why Anamaria had allowed him in here. This was women's business, not men's.

"Look here, Jack, welcome your babe to the world," Anamaria whispered. He peered down, preparing to make a terrible face at the carnage, but instead was struck dumb with awe. In Anamaria's capable brown hands was a small but healthy squalling baby.

"What is it, Jack, what did we make?" Elizabeth's voice was exhausted and hoarse.

"Take her, Jack. It's your bairn."

Jack gingerly took the squirming, bloody bundle into his hands to look it over. His face broke into a huge grin. "We've made a girl, Lizzie, a bright, bonny girl!" He bent to kiss her, awed at the treasure she'd hidden away inside herself for the better part of a year, awed that he should experience this, and awed at the small child with his mouth and Elizabeth's perfect sandy hair.

Elizabeth leaned her sweaty forehead against his arm as she stroked their daughter's cheek. She was a bonny girl, indeed. Her eyes fluttered half-closed with the exhaustion of her travails.

"Nellie," he whispered in the tiny, perfect seashell of an ear. "Little Nellie Twinkle Toes, and you shall dance, my love." He slipped into the space next to Elizabeth, stroking her damp hair.

"Ana... Ana!" he called.

"Aye?"

"Tell the crew there's a new lady aboard the Pearl! Step to!"

Anamaria could only smile at the tender scene. "Aye aye, captain!"

* * *

Will Turner stood on the edge of the path down to the little cove. It had been four years since he'd set foot on that sand and since he'd last seen Elizabeth. He'd heard tales coming back in, stories of a pirate king that Hell itself had spat back, not for wickedness, but for stealing the heart of Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld and for bringing her back to the world of the living with him to make her his own. They'd spoken of her bewitching beauty, how she rivaled her king in wit and cunning. He'd heard tales, too, of how the legendary captain of the Black Pearl had charmed a mermaid, a siren, one of Neptune's own daughters and beguiled her out of the sea. As Tia Dalma-- the name had come to him in a dream one night after Elizabeth had left-- said: same story, different version. 

What remained the same in all the tales of the pirate king and queen was her happiness. He'd heard a sailor, freshly rescued and gripping a mug of grog tightly, tell how her face had shown like the sun whenever Jack had looked at her. If the man was to be believed, as well, below her tunic, her belly had been swollen with child. Perhaps all of it was true, perhaps none of it, but he was sure of one thing: her happiness.

In the months after she'd left, he'd found a wounded seabird on the bluff. He'd taken pity on it, brought it into town, and nursed it. He'd grown fond of the bird and it grew comfortable with him, but it always had its eye on the horizon. When it had healed, Will had brought it back to the cliff and set it free. In the moment it took wing, he realized how Elizabeth had felt. He'd come to terms with her choice then, as he watched the bird wheeling against the setting sun. She'd belonged on land no more than the bird.

A year after she'd left, when the tales first started to filter in, he'd fallen in love again. Mr. Brown's daughter, Marta, was sweet and gentle and nothing like Elizabeth. She'd watched him for months with her soft blue eyes, never saying a word. He'd spoken to Mr. Brown one afternoon and arranged to court her. It seemed the fitting thing to do.

They'd married in a simple ceremony a scant few months before Mr. Brown died in his sleep, at his forge. Will had inherited it and set about to make an honest living for himself and his wife. His love for her grew into a comfortable, easy rhythm. In another year, Marta had whispered to him that she was with child, and for that instant, he'd forgotten Elizabeth entirely.

She'd given him a healthy son, who they'd named Bill after her father and his. Little Billy was closing in on three now and Marta was expecting another child in the fall. He was content with his life, but now and then, he'd returned to the bluff, wondering if he'd see black sails against the horizon one day. He never had.

He stepped off the path onto the sand and looked out over the water. So much had changed in four years. It didn't feel like his life. The memories seemed like nothing more than a bit of a story he'd heard as a child.

"Fancy meeting you here, lad," the voice from behind drew his attention to the present. He spun around, only to find himself face to face with Jack Sparrow. Further down the cove, a woman played in the shallows with a small child, no older than his Billy.

"I see being a pirate king has done you well, Captain."

"I see the stories have reached your ears, then, mate. Is dear Lizzie still a siren and our child half a fish? Or am I again dining on pomegranates with Hades, trying to win his queen in a game of dice?"

"A little bit of both, depending on who you hear it from and how drunk they are." Jack laughed and clapped him on the back.

"A good tale either way! And what of you? I hear tell you're married with one of your own now. Master of your own forge, too."

"Aye, I married Mr. Brown's daughter. We've a son, Bill, named for my father."

"Hello Will." Elizabeth's voice startled him. He'd been so busy talking with Jack, he hadn't seen her creep up. She carried their child in her arms, smiling at him. Her face was more weathered than it had been four years ago, but it somehow suited her. The child, on the other hand, was fair, with Jack's dark eyes and high cheekbones and her light hair.

"Mrs. Sparrow," he said stiffly. "And your child?"

"This is Nellie. We come here, now and then. I'm teaching her to swim now. She'd taken to the ocean like a fish."

"So the tales say." It was her turn to laugh.

"We've heard!" She leaned against Jack, their daughter reaching out for him. "Tales of you have reached us, as well. They call you the finest blacksmith in the Caribbean now."

Will smiled sadly. "And it's all rubbish. I'm no better than any other man." Elizabeth reached out to touch his face and he pulled back. "We're expecting another child this autumn." She'd simply nodded and withdrew her hand. Time may have healed all his wounds, but even scars can still sting.

"We won't trouble you any longer, then, Will. Jack and I... we have to get back to sail on the tide. It was good to see you, though." For just a moment, the Elizabeth Will had known long ago surfaced, but was just as quickly gone. She turned and started away. Jack lingered on, holding Nellie.

"Cheers, mate. Best of luck with the new one," he said quietly.

Will stared for a moment, the last vestiges of his old self slipping away. "If you or _Lizzie_ ever need anything... a sword... anything at all, send word. I'll get it to you." It was a selfless gesture, but an honest one. Jack dropped his free hand on Will's arm.

"That we will, son." And he was off, following Elizabeth down the beach, catching her in an embrace before they rounded the corner.

Will stood there for a moment, very much like he had so many years ago, and then his face broke into a wide smile. In the light of the setting sun, it was as though a weight had been lifted off him. She'd given him his closure and Jack's words echoed in his head: _This is not where your story should end._ He turned and headed up the path. His story hadn't ended, only one chapter, and the rest of it was for him to write.

----

_Author's Notes: So this is it, the very last bit of Horizons. Everything is tied up here and given a happy ending. My apologies for the lateness; that whole Real Life things caused a bit of a hinderance. Many, many thanks to everyone who's reviewed and everyone who has read. I cannot believe how many people read what amounted to my first bit of fiction in years. Special thanks also are in order for my beta, Libby24, without whom this story (and all my others) would be awkward as a blind, three legged dog._


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